Take Me To Church
by RockAroundtheGlock
Summary: Black Lagoon enters into a new deal with the Rip-Off Church just as Balalaika prepares to commission them for a big job, placing all involved in a precarious balance of allegiances and rivalries. Not strictly romance but will contain Rock/Revy eventually.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own any rights to Black Lagoon. I hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 1: A Clusterfuck Day

The air was alive with the sound of gunfire. Home made explosive ordinance shook the buildings throughout through out this little battle field as the Lagoon Company found themselves in the midst of yet another job gone pear-shaped. Revy was hidden inside what had been a one story office of some sort but was now a gutted shell of its former self, Dutch flanked the main group of their assailants from behind a mass of crumbled concrete, looking contrite at having to dip into their cargo for extra weaponry to fend off the onslaught. He didn't relish the chunk that would come from their pay checks for delivering used goods. Benny had made a mad dash for cover at the first sign of trouble and was inches away from Revy's spot as she earnestly picked off targets. Then there was Rock, caught in the middle of the clusterfuck, which seemed to have erupted rather suddenly. His position as negotiator for this shin dig had left him the closest to their foes and now it had become unsafe for him to get to any actual cover and so he resigned himself to lying prone on the battle ground.

"Two Hands, you alright over there?" Dutch's voice emerged over the sounds of battle as he loaded the borrowed machine gun.

"Gettin' fucked, Dutch! Where's Rock?" She unloaded a mag from one of her cutlasses with her teeth only to replace it a moment later with a fresh one. She couldn't see her partner from her current position but she knew it couldn't be good.

"He's alive..for now." Dutch boomed in return, picking off some Charlie who were getting a little too close to Roanapur's favorite businessman. He winced just slightly as some stray flak flew by his head, grumbling to himself something about getting to old.

"Is it just me or is this getting to be more routine for our jobs with Balalaika ever since you went to Japan?" Benny asked.

"Shut up and pray, dipshit!" Of course, Revy was a devout atheist who prayed only to the almighty dollar on an altar of death and bloodshed (or was it the other way around?), but Benny resisted his initial inclination to point that out. He figured any little thing couldn't hurt given their current predicament.

If they couldn't get a handle on things soon, well, he was starting to consider what epitaph he'd like on his headstone.

An explosion of glass nearby followed by some choice expletives from Lagoon's best gunslinger quickly jarred Benny out of his musing, but before he could fixate on what exactly had happened…

"Rock! You crazy bastard, what the fuck are you doing?" Came Dutch's stunned roar over the din of gunfire.

In the calamity, the fighting had migrated. Rock used the opportunity to covertly move over to a discarded—but more importantly, unused—grenade launcher and he began to pick of the most problematic pockets of thugs, all the while dashing about and screaming like a mad man. That had been what caused the windows to bust out of Revy and Benny's shelter. Time seemed to stop as both sides took a moment to digest exactly what the fuck was going on. The distraction allowed Dutch and Revy to recover some much needed ground in the fighting; questions could be asked later.

"Rock! Find some fuckin' cover, ya goddamn idiot!" Revy shouted, now in a position to see the spectacle for herself as she continued her own shooting. The gang bangers she was shooting at seemed to have become more of a secondary concern next to Rock's safety. Dutch was on the same page, providing Rock with cover fire right up until he cast the grenade launcher aside and charged the remaining enemies, seemingly intent on fighting them?

Dutch's jaw went slack and he felt the cigarette he'd been chewing on beginning to slip from his mouth.

"Oh, fuck me, that boy has some kinda death wish."

Revy bellowed the foulest obscenities she could conjure as Rock stopped short and grabbed the money Balalaika had sent as payment before making a mad dash back across the field. If nothing else could be said of him, it was that Rock had developed an impressive talent even among the citizens of Roanapur for dodging bullets.

* * *

Rock grunted, feeling himself being thrown headlong against the wall of the Black Lagoon's bridge with what seemed to be all the force of a freight train. He had just enough time to look up and witness the unbridled, indiscriminate fury heading his way with all the same finesse as that same train before Revy unleashed on him full force.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" She seethed, her tone an enraged howl, though there was a hint of something more to it that added to the unhinged quality. Panic? Concern? Fear? Hysteria? Whatever the case it was Revy not quite like he'd ever seen her before and it unnerved him slightly.

"What kinda limpdick suicidal motherfucker runs unarmed into a gun fuckfest? I already told you once, its just not possible to protect you when you try so damn hard to get fuckin' killed all the time! Remember that, Rock?"

At this, she sounded almost feral and Rock knew this moment was the closest he would ever be to facing an angry lion. He had enough self-preservation to know not to speak, and not to move, as she drew her cutlass and pointed it straight at him, cocking the hammer back.

"Or maybe you wanna die. That's it, isn't it? Balalaika, Japan, this clusterfuck today…It's all because you wanna take the express trip to a god forsaken shithole in the ground. Well, why didn't you just say so? I can make it painless for you, Rocky boy."

Several tense seconds passed between them as they stared each other down, Revy with her gun locked and loaded and pointed and him, and Rock with nothing but his disarming ability to see into her. She wouldn't kill him. She couldn't. Of that, he was certain.

"Aw fuck it," Revy groused with a scowl, putting her gun back in its resting spot as Dutch arrived back at the helm of the boat.

"I'm goin' topside for a smoke." Revy grumbled. Rock made to go back toward the bunks but was stopped by Dutch's stern command.

"Rock. Hold on."

"Dutch, I know what—" A silencing gesture from his employer stopped Rock in his tracks and his shoulders slumped as if he were a schoolboy about to receive a lecture from the principal. Dutch seemed in no hurry to relieve the agonized anticipation as he silently retrieved his pack of Redwoods, offering one to Rock, which he accepted. The pair smoked in silence, Rock unsure of what to say and Dutch meditating on just what exactly he had seen that day. Finally, with cigarettes more than half spent, the quiet was broken.

"Rock, I'm gonna preface what I'm about to tell you by saying I knew you were a crazy son of a bitch when I hired you."

"But?" Rock pressed.

"That was hands down the craziest shit I've ever seen, and that's saying something considering where we live and the people in that hell hole." Dutch let a proud smile slip at that comment and Rock allowed himself to feel better, believing that maybe he wasn't in for the lecture he thought he would get.

"Point is, I'm gonna need you to take it easier on my blood pressure. Balalaika will appreciate the thought and it'll be a nice feather in our cap for future business with Hotel Moscow, but fuck."

Rock's growing smile suddenly faded as his mind was drawn back to the woman up on the deck, who was no doubt still seething at him.

"And Revy?"

"Don't sweat it, kid." Dutch said, crushing his cigarette into the ash tray. "She doesn't like to say it, but she's pissed because she cares. We all do. You go and get yourself killed, where the fuck am I gonna find another crazy fucker like you?"

"Thanks Dutch." Rock answered simply, now confident that no one (with the possible exception of Revy) begrudged him for his actions. He had, after all, saved their hides in the end so it really evened out, all things considered.

Rock made his way back toward the cooler, intent on grabbing a much-needed Beer. He headed for his bunk afterwards, passing Benny's station on the way.

"Hey, Rock." The resident computer genius beseeched him.

"Yeah, Benny?"

"Thanks for saving our butts." He beamed openly, briefly, before turning back to his work. Tomorrow would be another day with new obstacles to face, but for now their little rag-tag family was safe and accounted for. Rock supposed he couldn't ask much more than that.

* * *

When the Black Lagoon finally docked, it was noon in Roanapur. The sun beat down on the city with a vengeance and one could see the heat waves permeating from every surface. It was a hellish cocktail that only accentuated the living hell that was Roanapur. In the midst of it all, the crew found that they had a welcoming committee for their arrival. Balalaika and her entourage stood by in anticipation at the company dock as the boat was finally put to sleep and moored in place. The crew, as usual, looked worse for wear and Balalaika's eyes betrayed a hint of amusement even as her face remained stoic and businesslike. Her eyes trailed over to the briefcase in Rock's hand and seemed to light up with interest. S

"Dutch, its good to see you all in one piece." She cooed in her cordial, polished way; floating over to the crew finally as they finished up their docking routine. Her great coat and burgundy red blouse moving gracefully with her all the while.

"Ma'am." Dutch answered, while Revy grunted in displeasure. "I wasn't expecting a welcoming party."

"I simply came to see you into port, personally. It's the least I could do given the trouble you went to." She purred, walking a fine line between sounding genuine and manipulative. In Roanapur, even the rarest acts of consideration were often fueled by an ulterior motive, and if they weren't, still seemed suspect. Dealing with Hotel Moscow was always one such dubious pleasure. "I apologize for the inconvenience, but it seems there was a last minute… _complication._ The price of doing business, I suppose. Its really such a bother." She mused.

"Pardon me if I sound a bit skeptical, Miss Balalaika." Dutch addressed respectfully. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've been trying to kill us lately."

Balalaika tutted, her persona changing momentarily from the cold professional to the personal friend. "Oh, come now, Dutch. It wouldn't be very becoming of me to kill you when I still owe you a favor, would it? Besides, who else in this decrepit cesspool does the quality of work your company always produces?"

Dutch, ever the businessman, took her compliments in stride and cut through the heart of the matter. "About that, we weren't about to get the weapons shipment back, but we did get the money from the secondary order back for you."

"The bosses in Moscow won't be pleased at losing weapons." She mused, gravely "Some things can't be helped I suppose. On the bright side, the little betrayal today means you and your crew are finished playing the middle man in mafia transactions for the time being. I may have something a bit more your style in the works soon."

"Fuck yeah!" Revy exclaimed, perking up at the promise of a more adventurous job opportunity that didn't involve just your basic gun running and shooting…not that she minded that.

"Oh, and about that briefcase," Balalaika began, earning the attention of the crew, "The weapons shipment may be a loss, but in light of the circumstances, I'm feeling a bit generous. Let's say…$50,000 on top of your initial pay for the job.

Rock felt a cold chill run through him as her eyes settled on him last and she gave him an uncharacteristic, yet devilish wink.

"Smart work as usual, Dutch." She complimented, before turning on her heel back toward the Mercedes chariot that would carry her back to her throne high over the city of the walking dead.

"Ma'am."

As her car pulled away, Revy's howl of approval bellowed into the sweltering sky.

"Fuck yeah! What did I tell ya? You're a genius, Rock!" She shouted as she held Rock in a headlock. For his part, he looked every bit the haggard ragdoll, being tossed about by the carefree child. Dutch and Benny smiled in amusement at the pair as the group made their way toward the GTO with one destination in mind.

"I'm gonna drink your ass so far under the table!"

* * *

The night came and went and morning seeped over the land, bringing with it a new day and a fresh heat. Though it was still early, the air conditioners that worked were already putting in overtime trying to stave off the encroaching heat and humidity of the outdoors. The city was like chopped meat, slowly stewing in a broth of sweltering dampness, over an oven of the unforgiving heat of the Southeast Asian jungle. That alone was enough to make for a bitch of a day, but then the a thunderous headache began to make itself known in Rock's head as he slowly came to consciousness.

His surroundings steadily came into view as he cracked open bleary eyes and steeled himself against the brightness coming through his window. The first thing he saw was the Hawaiian shirt hung up on his wall, and then the pulp fiction poster (another gift from Revy). All seemed to be in order until he took stock of the room to his left. The normal tidy nature of his living space was tarnished with an overturned night stand; which in turn splayed a couple weeks worth of cigarette butts and a handful of empty beer cans about his floor. Next to his bed seemed to be the explanation, his shoes in close proximity to his night stand. He surmised that in trying to hold the night stand for support to take his shoes off, he had pulled it over.

Rock sighed to himself, in no mood to clean up at the present moment. He would save it for later. Reaching over to his window sill, he grabbed his lighter and cigarettes for a morning smoke.

 _THUD!_

"Rise and shine, Rock!"

He felt his head jerk up painfully fast at the sudden intrusion, almost levitating from the bed in startled fright as the peaceful bubble of morning was shattered with all the finesse of a charging elephant. He stammered, struggling momentarily to regain his composure as he looked up at her. He took in the way she jaunted into the room, uncaring of his broken door hinges; the way her eyes gleamed with excitement for the day ahead. A true rarity for the gunslinger.

"How are you this cheerful after all that?" He grumbled into his pillow, becoming more aware by the moment of the tiny construction crew that must've been jackhammering away inside of his skull. Revy only offered the most devilish of chuckles in response, taunting "Aww…did poor Rocky Baby have too much rum?" and then an open guffaw "Maybe you should take whiskey next time."

Any retort he had died on his tongue as quickly as it had formed as he felt himself get playfully flipped into the floor along with his mattress, yelping as he went.

"Seize the fuckin' day, dipshit!" Revy offered once more before the sound of her retreating boots filled the hall. Rock spent several deliberating moments pondering the merits of attempting to crawl back into bed for at least another hour. Eventually, his need for an aspirin was the swing vote in his internal debate and he begrudgingly picked himself up off the floor. Was this how Revy felt when he was usually the one to wake her up?

After spending a few precious minutes to pull himself together and reform the businessman persona, Rock softly trudged down the hallway in search of the rest of the crew. When the office appeared empty except for Revy, sprawled on the couch lazily reading one of her comics, Rock became curious.

"Where are Dutch and Benny?"

Revy sat up to make Room for Rock on his favored couch cushion. She shrugged with disinterest as she answered him, "Dutch had some work to do on the boat and Benny's off somewhere cyber-fucking that red dot chick."

"You mean Jane?" Rock asked, smiling ever so slightly at her crude nickname while stealing a slice of pizza from the box of left overs on the coffee table.

Revy waved him off dismissively, an unlit cigarette between her fingers. "Yeah, yeah…"

"So, its just you and me today, then?" Rock asked rhetorically after several minutes of companionable silence. He didn't understand why, but for some reason he'd always found the prospect of spending time alone with Revy alluring. He chalked it up to his curious nature and the unquenched need to know a little more about the enigmatic femme fatale he'd come to call his best friend.

"Why?" She looked at him with an arched eyebrow, fake indignance oozing from her as she toyed with him. "Did you have somewhere better to be? Don't tell me ya been fuckin' that whore of a nun."

"No! No!" Rock nervously waved his hands in the air between them, taking the bait. "It's just that you usually have something in mind when we have a day off."

Revy let a smile slip, her jovial attitude from earlier that morning making a reappearance. "Well, Rock, you guessed right…." He watched her uncross her legs and walk over to the counter, holding up a piece of paper with Dutch's unmistakable handwriting on it. "But first we got shit to do. Look alive, Rocky boy!"

He jumped as she suddenly threw the keys to the GTO in his direction, which he fumbled for momentarily before following her out into the beautifully filthy city they called home.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Color Me Green

 _Welcome to the jungle_

 _We've got fun and games_

 _We've got everything you want_

 _Honey we know the names_

 _We are the people that can find_

 _Whatever you may need_

 _If you got the money, honey_

 _We got your disease!_

Guns n Roses blared from the speakers of the GTO, the car roaring down the road as Rock's steady foot minded the accelerator. The engine purred like a tiger to the sound of Axl Rose's voice, with Revy occasionally throwing in a phrase here and there. She was exceptionally light hearted today and it was a quizzical thing given the laundry list Dutch had left for them, along with the sweltering heat of the day.

They were on their way to Rowan's place on Racciada Street. He would no doubt pester Revy with more job offers. For the life of him, Rock didn't understand why Revy still tolerated it. He glanced over to find her playing what looked to be a pretty mean air guitar solo along with the bridge of the current song and he couldn't help the smile that spread over his face at the sight.

"It's not like you to be in such a good mood after a night at the Yellow Flag." Rock chanced, benevolently. His eyes flit back over to the road before giving her another once over, taking in the way she so casually strummed away at some imaginary electric Fender, pretending to belt out the high notes as she did. Her expression was just as striking in its absence of any worldly preoccupation. Rock tried to remember the last time he'd seen the notoriously volatile gunwoman so at ease with herself. The brief time they'd spent at the fair in Japan, perhaps?

"Hmm?" She paused her performance, souring. "What's it to you? Can't a gal take a break from being a bitch every once in a while?" Her tone was harsh but her eyes betrayed the lightness of her mood, signaling that she was busting his balls for shits and giggles. "Just drive, ya fuckin dipshit." The last comment was punctuated with a "fuck yeah!" as Thunderstruck began blaring into the car through the high-quality sound system Benny had searched for high and low and toiled away at for weeks.

"You mean to tell me that bonus we got yesterday has nothing to do with your upbeat attitude?" Initially put off by her greed, the way a fat pay check or a night out to the bar could make Revy feel so at ease with the world had becoming something of an endearing trait. He only hoped it would withstand a visit to Rowan's.

Revy turned to look at him, taking in the side of his smug visage with indignant surprise. The fucker was teasing her! He was goading her on. Well then…

"Ya got me, Rock. I just love me a fuckin' fat old Johnny Paycheck, but it's how I'm gonna blow his load that concerns you."

"Wha—?" He looked at her as they pulled up outside Rowan's, but was taken aback by the sinister, canine-bearing grin that had dominated her face. He gulped nervously as his eyes met her own, which brimmed with devious intent. He wanted to think she was fucking with him, but he honestly couldn't say. He didn't know whether to be curious at the nature of her suggestion or terrified. Had she finally decided to do him in in some expensively convoluted murder scheme?

Satisfied that she'd successfully piqued his interest to her plans, she kicked her car door open with a snicker. She addressed him one more time, as if reading his unspoken thoughts. "You'll just have to wait and see, Rocky Baby."

Rowan's place was the same as always. Rock had always felt that, even by Roanapur standards, stepping across the threshold into the place was like entering into another world. A place where all the sex, nudity, and vulgarity to be found in the entire city was put up on a pedestal to be lauded and worshipped by all who enter. It had always had a dubious air of elegance; as if all the grit of peeling paint, cracked tile, spilled beer, and cum stains were masquerading as something high class. Rowan's place is what you'd get if you painted dog shit in glitter and called it silver.

"Do my eyes deceive me or is that miss Rebecca I see comin' my way?" Rowan crooned as she and Rock made their way toward the back of the seedy-chic establishment.

"Hey, Rowan. How the fuck have ya been?" She was bright eyed and bushy tailed. The perfectly deceptive demeanor to hide the lethality everyone who knew the name "Two-Hands" was well aware of.

"Can't complain." He lounged, not bothered in the slightest about moving from where he was splayed on his sofa. "It could be better, if you catch my meaning."

Rock gave an irritable sigh in the background. Rowan was many things: a peacock, a coward, a businessman. Subtle was never anywhere in his apparent range of skill sets. Hoping to avoid his impending solicitation on Revy's behalf, Rock reached into his shirt pocket to produce a bill statement for services rendered while Revy continued to indulge his small talk. He opened his mouth to speak but Revy yanked the document right out of his hand and shoved it into the strip club owner's face with a cheeky wink.

"Anyway, Rowan, we got shit to do; places to be, people to see."

"Your merchandise is at the ship yard in the usual spot.", added Rock.

Rowan scanned his eyes over the bill and his jive talking demeanor gave way to disappointment; his jaw slack.

"Damn, Rebecca! How's a brotha supposed to make a livin' like this? Tell me Dutch ain't runnin' a racket these days."

Revy gave an aggravated sigh that was almost imperceptible against the backdrop of blaring club music and excited yelping as she grasped the handle of her left cutlass. Her expression was still bored and she was hovering at a minimal threat level, still rational enough not to draw where Watsap might stick his nose into things.

"Look, if you got a problem, tell it to my guns." She stated with a tone which conveyed her utter disinterest in his financial woes, "Otherwise shut the fuck up and quit your bitchin'." The three of them rode out the tense silence together for several long moments before Revy released her hold on her weapon, satisfied. "Good."

Rowan recovered from his fear induced paralysis almost immediately and sat back up out of where he'd receded against the couch cushions. "Say, Rebecca?" He called out just as she turned around.

"Hmm?"

A disgusting, wry smile slid over his lips and Rock rolled his eyes in aggravation at what would come next. Oddly enough, he found the thought of Revy working in a place like this, a mere sex object to men for the sake of putting food on the table, upsetting to say the least. Not that Revy wasn't always looked upon with lecherous eyes by the rabble of Roanapur, but it was a rare individual who got to touch, and even then, they didn't live long enough to tell about it.

"The job offer still stands, you know?"

She openly guffawed, amused at the absurd notion that she would ever give up the life of a pirate to come crawling back to this hovel. "Yeah, right." She scoffed. "Later Rowan."

But Rowan still wasn't finished.

"Well, if I can't convince you to come to work for me, maybe I can interest brutha Rock here in a private dance with one o' my finest ladies. Boy still looks like he ain't never seen a pair o' titties."

Instantly, Rock's eyebrows skyrocketed into his hairline as his eyes widened and a ferocious cherry red color adorned his cheeks. He didn't know what he was feeling more of: shock, terror, or embarrassment. It was quickly decided for him as the disappearance of Revy's good mood was hearkened by a savage, possessive growl before she yanked him by the arm.

"Come on, Rock! We're going!"

She held an iron grip on him all the way to the door, and then from there, dragged him struggling and protesting to the GTO. All the while, unwanted visions of Rock with the random street skanks from around the city trespassed across her mind's eye; taunting her with the feelings she tried so hard to suppress. She would tell herself she was just doing what's become second nature to her by now, protecting Rock, but in that moment, she became keenly aware of a fact the people around them seemed to know all too well: She was jealous of other women where Rock was concerned, no, more than that, she…loved him? But that wasn't possible. Was it?

All this was starting to make her head throb again.

She jammed the key into the ignition with just a bit more force than was probably necessary and Benny's GTO roared to life, peeling off down the street with a squeal as she lead-footed the gas.

Almost as soon as she pressed the gas, the radio crackled to life with the strains of an old '70s classic.

 _Love hurts…_

 _Love scars…_

 _Love wounds…_

 _And mars….any heart…_

 _Not tough, nor strong…enough…_

 _To take a lot of pain…_

 _Take a l—_

"Uggghhh" Revy groaned in exasperation, flicking the radio off as she turned her head toward the window to exhale the smoke from a newly lit Redwood Original. "Fucking Rowan."

Rock watched her for a while as they sped off down the road, trying to gauge if it was safe enough to speak yet. She was every bit the wild tigress: dangerous; exotic; predatory, but there were times where she was much like a nervous deer. Make a wrong move at the wrong moment and all defenses would shoot straight up. Yes, friendship with Revy was much about timing, he mused.

"You got somethin' to say, Rock?" She groused, an unspoken threat coloring the tone of her voice. She was tired of his staring.

"No, I…I mean yes, um…" He floundered, kicking himself before deciding to start over. He figured maybe a distraction was the best approach here.

"So, about that surprise you mentioned earlier: when am I gonna find out what it is?"

A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. It wasn't much, but it was enough to show him his effort had been appreciated. "Aw…Is little Rocky Baby getting impatient?" she cooed in a tone that was equal parts patronizing, seductive, and playful.

"Just curious." He conceded.

"Well, if you behave yourself a little while longer, sweetie pie, maybe you'll see a preview." Rock didn't know if the seduction he heard just there was in his imagination or not but there was something very uncomfortable starting to happen in his trousers. The timing couldn't have been worse. Eda always did make a point to fawn over him.

He smiled innocently as Revy offered him her own smirk, leaning over to turn the radio back on. As The Eagles began playing, Revy let out a shout of approval. She seemed to be back to her good mood, outwardly at least, but Rock could still sense that something was off, and he wished that there was something more he could do about it. His mind went back to what had instigated her sudden bad mood in the first place. The seemingly innocuous suggestion of a lap dance. And then he realized something: Revy was often prone to jealous outbursts when other women showed interest in him. He made a point to file that away to ask about later. For now, he lost himself in the music, enjoying the exhilaration of the high-performance engine under the hood being challenged.

 _Well I'm runnin' down the road tryin' to loosen my load_

 _I got seven women on my mind,_

 _four that wanna own me, two that wanna stone me, one says she's a friend of mine_

 _Take it easy…_

 _Take it easy…._

 _Don't let the sound of your own wheels make you crazy_

 _Come on baby…_

 _Don't say maybe…_

 _I gotta know if your sweet love is gonna save me!_

"Open this fuckin' door ya old cunt!" Revy shouted, beating on it for the fifth time since the pair pulled up a few minutes ago. She was getting impatient, and understandably so, it was afternoon and sweltering. Rock desperately wanted to loosen his tie, but he knew Sister Yolanda appreciated his more polished appearance in contrast to his co-workers.

 _SQUAWK! "Old cunt! Old cunt" SQUAWK!_

Finally the door flew open and Eda appeared before them, looking none too pleased. Apparently, she was just as hungover since she had joined the crew at the bar the previous night. She looked a bit disheveled and hadn't yet donned the cowl of her habit or her typical sunglasses, appearing to have rushed to get dressed after sleeping in late.

"God damn, Revy! It's fuckin Saturday! Can't you ever keep your voice down?" She griped, rubbing her temple. Behind Rock and Revy, the parakeet continued its racket.

 _SQUAWK "Old cunt!"_

"Someday I'm just gonna shoot that damn bird." Eda muttered, ushering the two inside. She brightened considerably once her attention shifted to Rock.

"Hey there, Romeo." She swooned at him, flashing him one of her trademark pirate smiles. "It's about time you came by to see me." Rock blushed as she stepped into his personal space, letting him feel her generous bosom against his arm as she spoke into his ear. Her aim was to enrage Revy, and Rock was her toy. It was always so cute to watch Revy get jealous, admittedly she enjoyed the flustered look Rock always got, as well.

Right on cue.

"Keep your robe on, Sister Loose Snatch!" Revy shouted at her, pushing Rock forward to force some distance between the two.

"Fuck you, too, bitch." Eda huffed, amused.

"Speaking of," Revy looked around, "Where is Sister Dry Snatch?"

"Not here. She and Rico went into Bangkok on some business. And would it kill you to show an elder some damn respect?" She added, indignant.

Revy ignored her, chortling, "So, they left you here all by yourself to bang all the cock you want, huh? Must be a hell of a vacation for you."

"Vacation? Do you have any idea what it fucking takes to run this church? She left me with all that shit!" Eda exploded, indignant, but Revy pressed on, taking far too much enjoyment in their little game. She scoffed, "Doesn't look like you're missing any fuckin' sleep to me." Revy pretended to peer closer in examination of the fake nun's features. "Oh wait, yeah it does."

Eda scoffed. "It's still more attractive than whatever that thing you have sitting on your neck is." Revy was already seething but Eda didn't stop there. "Jesus, it looks like someone tried to ass fuck the wrong end of you, Two-Hands."

That was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. With lightning speed, Revy whipped out one of her cutlasses, all the while roaring her fury at Eda. "You asked for it, bitch! Let's see how good you look in that mirror after I put a new skull fuck hole in your face for your gang bangs!"

"I'd like to see you try, you she-male!" Eda roared back, aiming her Glock straight back at Revy. This exchange of head-butting and empty threats went on for some time before Rock decided he needed to draw his partner back to the task at hand.

"Revy…" Nothing.

"S-Sister Eda…?" He beseeched, trying to appeal to the woman who typically had a cooler, more rational head, if only marginally.

"Hmm?" She turned her head to look at him with a raised eyebrow, Revy's gaze followed suit.

"We came here on a business matter."

She played dumb. "Well why didn't you say so?" Spinning her Glock back into its shoulder holster as Revy sneered, doing the same with her cutlass.

"So, what is it you need this time?" She asked, walking them into the chapel sacristy, which housed the office for the Rip-Off Church's business dealings.

It was odd to see Eda sitting in Yolanda's place like this, pulling up an orders form, appearing so…managerial. Then again, Rock had his suspicion that things of this nature were a lot more familiar to the nun than anyone expected. He imagined her in some American office building, wearing a pantsuit, with a trusty Glock at her hip, pushing papers just like she was now. Little did Rock know how accurate that image was.

Revy took over from here, reaching into her shirt to pull out a list, much to Eda's chagrin. Eda hesitantly picked up the document, which was limp with sweat, and scanned over the items.

"My, my…that's quite an interesting list you have there."

"Yeah, yeah." Revy groused, impatient. "Can you get it done?"

"Well, I don't know, Revy. Did Moses part the Red Sea?" She winked, continuing "Of course I can get it done, and since the old broad's not here, I guess I could let you have them for a small discount."

Small discount? A small discount at the Rip-Off Church would amount to standard black market price, Rock mused. But, there was a reason they were called the Rip-Off Church.

"What a fuckin' pal." Revy snarked, clearly realizing that same fact.

"Look, it's not like there's anywhere cheaper in this city to buy all this crap. Even Chang deals higher than the going rate. We can afford to deal expensively. But," Her voice turned saccharin "I could be more flexible for a small favor."

Revy scoffed her disapproval, "I bet you say that every night. Forget it, bitch. Rock is off limits." There it was again, that protective (possessive) jealousy on full display for anyone with eyes to see. Hell, even Stevie Wonder would have trouble missing it.

"Calm down, Revy. I wasn't talking about that."

And Revy did, reluctantly, falling back a couple steps and shoving her hands into her armpits with a scowl.

"So then, what _were_ you talking about?" Rock supplied

"I'm glad you asked, Rocky Boy. The church needs you for a regular job."

"A job? What the fuck do you need us for?" Revy was still grumpy.

Eda sat forward in her chair, preparing for an explanation. "The Sister is preparing a new route, but…it's looking to be somewhat more dangerous than our regular routes. The new suppliers wouldn't be able to get shipments to us without some help."

"So, you need us to pick up the cargo." Rock supplied, filling in the blanks. "How dangerous is this route?"

"How dangerous, he says. Couldn't be any more dangerous than anything we already sail through."

"That's not entirely true. It's a little off the beaten path and from what we've gathered, pirates favor the area as a kind of refuge away from Roanapur."

"So then why is the old skank using that route?" Revy wondered.

"Profit." Eda shrugged.

"We also have to consider Hotel Moscow, right? Working for them and the for the church might hurt our relationship given that Balalaika isn't on friendly terms with Sister Yolanda."

"No one's on friendly terms with that rusty old bitch" Revy muttered to herself before turning to Rock, "Don't be such a limp-dick, dumbass. Business is business. Everyone who isn't mafia is doin' favors for all of 'em. And anyway," She continued, turning to address Eda. "It ain't our call, skank. If you want us to take a job, grab the fuckin' phone and give Dutch a ring. Come on, Rock. Chow time!"

Rock made to follow her, but against his better judgment doubled back.

"Eda?"

"Yeah, Rocky Boy?" She cooed predictably "Peering at him from behind her recently placed sunglasses with a fond curiosity.

"There's…something I've been meaning to ask you about."

The atmosphere in the office shifted suddenly from light to faintly tense. There was an elephant in the room and only one of them knew fully how dangerous it would be to address it.

"Fire away." She said, leaning back casually into the office chair, feet now propped up on the desk.

"How do you and Sister Yolanda come by some of the information you get from clients, exactly? Some of it shouldn't be possible from what I remember of my old job. These clients of yours wouldn't have that information, right?"

The look behind the glasses changed into something deathly serious. It was no longer the amiable, welcoming expression he was accustomed to seeing directed at him. He was looking at a dog of war. Someone with a mission, who would tie up any loose ends. She continued to speak with the same laid back kindness as she warned him.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Rocky Boy. Some things its best not to know. I'll tell you this much, I'm from Langley, Virginia." She put a finger to her lips as he pieced together what he'd heard. "That's all you're gonna hear. Anymore than that and I have to kill you. Understand?"

Rock nodded, feeling to disconcerted for words as he watched the hardened agent persona slip back into the promiscuous, alcoholic nun persona.

"Good. I actually like you, Rocky Boy. I'd hate to see you die."

Their discussion was cut short before Rock could say anything more, which he supposed was for the best.

"Rock! If you don't get your ass out here now yer gonna walk to Chalquam Market!" Revy shouted and he sheepishly hurried out the door, leaving the CIA nun to her business.

 _SQUAWK "Old cunt! Old Cunt!" SQUAWK_

 _And there's Chapter 2. Next chapter we start getting into the meat of the story! Stay tuned!_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Cognitive Dissonance

The city of Roanapur was a world unto itself. In many ways, it was like an entirely different universe from what Rock had experienced during his sheltered existence in Japan; something he was still coming to grips with the hard way as time passed by since the day Revy had jarred him awake and pulled him into this world of walking corpses. That's all any of them really were in the end, lost souls waiting for the grim reaper to finally ferry them over to the other side. As depressing as that reality seemed at times, it struck Rock how this world bared a number of similarities to the world of innocence, blissful ignorance, and light.

It was just past noon on a typical Roanapur Saturday and Chalquam Market was abuzz with activity. Eager vendors went about their work, looking to make an easy buck or two off of some of the less weary among the folks who ventured there for a weekend outing, looking for a small break from the everyday struggles. In many ways, the market reminded him of Roanapur's version of the neighborhood fairs back in japan. The smell of foods from different cultural backgrounds wafted freely through the air from various vendor spaces, intermingling across the square as buskers played away on well worn old instruments, careful to avoid encroaching on one another's territory. The many flea market vendors offering knock offs of popular product shamelessly peddled their wares for ludicrously high prices, only occasionally silenced in their obnoxious solicitation through threat of violence.

Right now, the only part of all this that was of interest to either of them was the food. Rock felt his stomach growl painfully at the assault on his nostrils as Revy turned to question him.

"What do ya feel like, partner?" Referring to the food.

He struggled to dissect the scents in the air and hone in on one that was more preferable than another, eventually finding himself partial to the Lo Mein from the Chinese vendor across the way, but…

"It's your turn to pick, Revy." He reminded, with a dismissive hand gesture.

"Well jeez, you're a lot of help." The gunslinger snarked gently, finding herself grappling with indecision before her eyes landed on a new stall she hadn't seen here before. It was adorned in red and white and had _Chang's_ visage on it in the art style of the famous Colonel Sanders silhouette above the words _KWIK FRY CHICKEN_ , the whole ensemble coming together to signal the booth as a knock off of a considerably more famed chicken restaurant. Revy cackled briefly at the image of Mr. Chang's face advertising knock off fried chicken in the middle of Chalquam Market before deciding that same chicken was in fact what her palette was in need of.

"Yo, Rock! Check this out!" She cackled, pulling him along toward the market's latest installment. "Since when did Chang get into the fast food business?" She wondered facetiously, her tone full of mocking. While both of them doubted that Roanapur's resident triad leader had anything to do with the display, it was clear he wasn't going to hear the end of it. "Just wait 'til ol' Fry Face gets a load'a this!" There were tears beginning to tickle at the corners of Revy's eyes now and Rock had to admit, he did find a certain endearment in her simple amusement.

The both of them were broken from their musings over the odd situation by the irate vendor of the knockoff stand, who had apparently taken offense to Revy's boisterous mockery.

"Hey stupid bitch! I not here for you to make fun! You order something or you leave now!" Shouted the salt-and-peppered Vietnamese old woman.

Startled, Revy stood wide-eyed and silent for a few perplexed moments, which Rock and learned to identify as the calm before the raging storm; and indeed, she proceeded to wrap her hand around her left cutlass. Who did this woman think she was? Clearly, she had a death wish if she dared to speak to "Two Hands" like that.

"What was that, old woman?" Revy asked coldly.

"Revy…" Rock placed an imploring hand on her drawing arm, not wanting to turn the market into a blood bath; especially not over something so ridiculous.

She became less tense at his touch, though her hand failed to stop gripping her pistol as Rock turned toward the vendor, attempting to smooth the situation over in her native language. When all was said and done, Rock's silver tongue had talked the old woman into a discount on their meal, though she still managed to get the last word in after thrusting the food into Revy's hands.

A wicked grin spread across the woman's deceptively sweet features and she answered Revy's original question.

"I say you a stupid bitch." Clear amusement colored her tone and, surprised, Rock fumbled to put his wallet away fast enough to catch Revy's outburst and save their food.

"You asked for it, bitch!" She roared, attempting to lunge clear over the counter, but a pair of arms pulled her back and away, separating her from the old woman as quickly as could be managed. Her hands gripped onto the containers of food in a raging fury the whole way to a table as she continued to shout insults and threats until her temper burned out and she no longer gave a shit.

Tense silence gave way to a more companionable one as Revy bore down on her food like she was a competitive eater going for the grand prize. Every now and then, Rock eyed her sheepishly from over his own entrée of greasy fried chicken.

"Eat up, dumbass!" Revy urged in between mouthfuls of mashed potatoes. "This is the perfect hangover food."

"I…I guess I'm really not all that hungry." Rock admitted, pushing some of his food around like one might expect of a petulant child.

Revy hummed in curiosity, looking up to give him and his barely touched food a once over. She hated seeing this side of Rock. The side where he tried to act fine, but he clearly had something going on in that overworked head of his. She always felt desperately compelled to make him feel better, but she was no good at this feelings bullshit. That didn't mean she wouldn't try.

"Really partner? As much as you had to drink last night that oughtta look like fuckin' ambrosia to you. Come on." She tried, appealing to his hangover, and Rock had to admit the pounding in his head was begging for relief but…

"Revy," He began morosely "are you still mad me? About yesterday?"

Where did that come from? Revy blinked once, twice, taken a back at this sudden change in conversation.

"No, dipshit it always thrills the fuck outta me when you go off tryin' to get yourself killed." Sarcasm oozed out of every word, masking the fear that she'd felt for him the day before. The fear that urged her into something more feral than even her Whitman Fever; the knowledge of such a state unnerving and terrifying her in and of itself. That she'd become so devoted to one person, to Rock, that she would completely lose herself at the thought of him in peril.

"I'm serious, Revy." Persisted Rock, his eyes downcast toward the table in contemplation of the previous day's events.

Revy was silent for several long moments, her eyes hidden ominously beneath her bangs as she rooted for her pack of cigarettes. Not a good omen.

She didn't speak again until she had lit her smoke between her lips and taken two long, leisurely drags. She was letting him feel the silence, taking her time to find the answer. She still felt like punching him for his little stunt, but in truth he had likely ensured their survival, and she found herself wanting to kiss him for it.

"No." Her voice finally came, soft as the breeze that carried it to him. "I guess I can't be mad at you for doin' what you had to, partner." Her eyes met his and she offered him an expression of rare kindness that only he was ever privy to.

"Besides, you did get us that sweet bonus." Her voice turned joking and she took another long drag, trying to lighten up the mood.

"Is that the only reason?" He prodded, ever so vaguely. And suddenly, Revy understood his fixation on her forgiveness, clear as day. The truth dawned on her like the rising summer sun the night after a violent thunderstorm.

"I see what this is about." She leaned forward from her casual position in the chair with cigarette dangling between her lips, regarding him with something akin to sadness.

"You want someone to be angry at you because you think you deserve it."

Rock jerked back in his chair, startled by the weight of her suggestion. "What? Why would I-?" Cognitive dissonance still refused to allow him to wrap his head around an obvious truth, and suddenly the tide came crashing down over his head all at once when Revy informed him, grimly "Rock…you killed people."

"No. No, I—" Revy simply watched patiently as Rock fretted, gripping his head while his eyes clamped shut. "Shit…shit!" He lurched to the side in his chair, gagging over the floor in a reaction that was equal parts distress and hangover. Revy felt embattled watching the scene before her play out. She was torn between wanting to soothe and knowing what was happening in his own head had to play out. Tentatively, she reached a supportive hand out and touched his arm as he continued to hyperventilate with his head between his knees.

"Easy there, partner." She soothed.

A while later, he began to come back to himself, steadily recomposing his disheveled form and lapsing into a state of haunted silence. The newly lit cigarette between his fingers trembled steadily. Revy stayed patient though, she would let him come to her in his own time.

"Revy…" His voice sounded hoarse from the vomiting he did earlier. She looked at him with sympathetic interest, taking in the way his shoulders heaved with anxiety, his fingers shook, and his eyes bore into like voids. He just wasn't cut out for this stuff.

"What did…what did you feel when you first pulled the trigger?" He asked, sounding like a wounded animal.

Her eyes went wide, startled at the unexpected nature of the question and the invasion into her past. In her mind she was taken back to a dingy old shack of an apartment on Mott Street. She could still remember, could still feel all of it like it was yesterday: that first sound of the revolver ringing out into the apartment, feathers billowing into the air, the scent of blood coating her nose, and lastly, him. She remembered how it felt to stand over her father's body, exercising revenge for years of torment.

A white hot rage gripped at her very soul and her hands clamped onto the table edges of their own accord as venom spewed from her from snarling fangs that now hid scared, little girl eyes. "Not a damn thing!"

Her chest heaved in the wake of the outburst and the rage was gone as quick as it had come, she looked up at her startled companion and quickly tried to make amends. She needed to be the strong one right now, it was unfair to snap at a time like this. "I mean, that's not important right now."

"But…" Revy put up a palm to silence him.

"Look, Rock, this ain't the place to wax depressing. If you wanna talk about this shit, It's gotta be the two of us and a lotta booze. Alright?" Her seriousness gave way to more teasing, and this time it actually did make him feel better. "Now, quit cryin' and eat yer food!"

He smiled fondly at her, appreciative yet still a bit unsettled and, as he ate, his thoughts drifted to the sounds of the street guitarist playing and singing

 _Hay un computo que viene_

 _Y arde mas alla de la tumba_

 _Con plomo dentro de mi vientre_

 _porque mi alma ha perdido su camino_

 _Lazaro…_

 _¿Cómo se pagaron sus deudas_

 _Cuando los fuegos, cuando los fuegos te han rodeado_

 _Con los sabuesos del infierno viniendo después de ti_

 _Tengo sangre, tengo sangre en mi nombre…._

"Sister Yolanda? To what do I owe the pleasure?" Dutch asked. His maintenance on the Black Lagoon had long since finished and he was lounging in his chair with a favorite text on Aristotle as he shouldered the office cordless against his ear.

On the other end, the elderly nun was filling him in at length of all the details of the job proposition Revy and Rock had heard of from Eda that very morning.

"How far off the beaten path, exactly?" He questioned, flipping a page in his book. He'd become well accustomed to the Rip-Off Church's vague way of doing business over the years, but even by their standards, he wasn't getting much to go on; something that was making it difficult to come to a decision on the matter.

"Sister…if you want my help, you gotta give me somethin' useful. I'm not sailing my ship straight into the middle of a buncha unknowns." At this, the nun made a shrewd point about the nature of the Lagoon Company's business with Hotel Moscow, to which Dutch answered "Frankly, even Balalaika isn't this vague. If you wanna hire my crew for a job, you're gonna have to give us something we can use."

"No shit?" A pause, as Dutch casually flipped another page, and then "Yes, as a matter of fact, I have heard of it. Borders the golden triangle, right?" Dutch finally placed his book down, reaching into the pocket of his flak vest for his cigarettes and a lighter. "I can see why it'd be crawling with pirates." The flint wheel made a sharp striking sound and flame erupted from the lighter, scorching the tip of his cigarette as he breathed deep; considering.

"Do I think Lagoon can handle it? The question is: Do you, ma'am?"

"Seems like we have an agreement, then." He listened, as she spouted formalities to tie up her end of the conversation. "A pleasure doing business with you, Sister."

Just as the phone call ended, Benny meandered into the office area to pilfer a beer from the office fridge. "Hey, Dutch. Who was that?" He greeted in his usual casual manner, curiosity colored his tone.

"That was Sister Yolanda from the Rip-Off Church." He pushed his glasses up and sat forward, resting his fore arms on his thighs.

"They already have the order ready? Revy must have raise quite a ruckus this morning." Benny looked on, wide-eyed.

"No, it's not that. They've hired us for a job."

Benny's interest piqued, knowing that the church handled all of their business almost exclusively in-house. "What kind of job?"

"The usual: weapons trafficking." Dutch shrugged, thinking nothing of the request. "Apparently, they have a new supply route. Problem is, their suppliers can't make it through all the pirates in the water ways up near the golden triangle."

"Are you sure we can, Dutch?" Rock asked, he and Revy having been listening to the tail bit of the conversation. "I mean, that area's bound to be swarming with pirates and mercenaries. We run the risk of getting ourselves into something worse than Luak."

"True." Dutch agreed, "But between the ship's armaments, Revy's guns, and your mind for strategy, I think we can handle it." And almost as an afterthought he added, "Oh, and Two-Hands," A smirk stretch across his face and his eyes came alive with mischief behind his glasses. Revy let out an indignant huff at being put on the spot. "The church has stipulated that they want Sister Eda to tag along on this one. Try not to get any bullet holes in my ship, would you?"

"What the fuck?" She raged, "That's just fuckin' great! I gotta be stuck in close quarters with that slut while she eyes up my partner like a piece of fuckin' meat?" Her eyes flit over to Rock, who felt like a deer caught in the headlights for that single moment. "Hey Rock, do me a favor and don't catch what ever the fuck that bitch is carrying these days."

Rock looked at the floor in embarrassment, trying to hide the flush that colored his cheeks at Revy's jealous display. Truth be told, Eda was an attractive woman, any fool could see that, but he couldn't bring himself to think of her (or anyone else in the city, for that matter) as anything more than a friend. The simple thought of it reeked of utter betrayal; made him uneasy.

He smiled gently as she ended her rant, taking her off guard and now causing her to blush as Dutch and Benny watched the scene with interested amusement.

"Whatever you say, Revy."

"Ah jeez…can it, ya fuckin' limp dick." She growled through her blush, lacking any of the usual bite that would come with such an admonition. Their bickering was halted by Dutch, who, clearing his throat, reminded them that this was an office and they still had work to do. He watched his frazzled employees do everything they could not to appear embarrassed at his admonishment.

"If you two lovebirds don't mind, we still have some details to smooth over."

Revy let out an exasperated huff, heading over the couch and splaying herself out. Rock grabbed three Heineken's from the fridge, offering two to Dutch and Revy and keeping one for himself.

"So, what do we know about this job, Dutch?" Questioned Rock, taking the Holland brew in by a mouthful.

"Unfortunately, about as much as we've already covered." He chewed thoughtfully on the cigarette in his mouth.

"How the fuck are we supposed to go flyin' blind?" Groused Revy.

"I'm getting to that, Two-Hands." Taking a drag of his dying cigarette. "That's why the church wants Eda to come along on this little trip. They get to keep their secrecy, we get an extra gun, and in return for our continued services, the church stops bending us over backwards on our orders. Everyone goes home happy. Amen, hallelujah, and peanut butter."

Revy scoffed.

The least that fuckin' bitch could do is be a sport.", she grumbled, taking a swig of beer. Rock and Benny said nothing, but they were inclined to agree with the sentiment.

"So, when is this job happening, Dutch?" asked Benny.

Dutch looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling, recalling the details of his phone call with Yolanda. "Yolanda and that kid get back into town tomorrow. She'll need the day to settle some church business. The day after our order should be ready. Rock, you and Revy'll go pick up our order and Sister Eda, while Benny-boy and I do some prep work on the Lagoon. We'll shove off at 1400. Everyone okay with that?"

Dutch waited quietly for anyone to comment on his gameplan.

"And where do with stand with Balalaika?" Rock wondered, still perched on the arm rest of the couch near Revy's head.

"No news yet, Rocky Boy. I wouldn't sweat it too much. Knowing her, she'll take a while to come up with her next plan, if you're worried about this job gettin' in the way of that. Anyway, it's getting late." He gestured toward the darkness outside the office blinds.

"I say we adjourn this meeting for greener pastures of the yellow flag kind."

Benny was quick to take him up on the offer, but Rock refused, suddenly looking morose at the prospect.

"Thanks, Dutch, but I think I'd rather drink alone tonight."

"Everything alright, Rock?" Dutch wondered, concerned, watching his newest employee trudge toward the hallway without explanation.

"Don't worry, boss man. I'll handle it." Revy assured, going to follow the shell-shocked businessman. She knew they were in for a _long_ night.

So, I know I promised more plot this chapter, but it kind of took on a life of its own and this felt like a natural stopping point. After this one I hope to get into more lengthy chapters.


	4. Chapter 4

Quick note: I know this kind of thing is everywhere in Black Lagoon, but still, if it makes you uncomfortable, this chapter features discussion of Rape.

* * *

Chapter 4: Let's Make A Deal

True to her word, Revy followed Rock on his path to his room, dragging him into her room instead. She had promptly enticed him with a fridge stocked full of their favorite beer along with a stash of Bacardi. Curiously, she also had a stash of lemons nestled next to the beer, which she'd justified by saying she occasionally liked to squeeze some into her water.

They cared not for the time on the clock, only measuring passage of time by the accumulation of empty cans as they toiled in their conversation. There was also music drifting from Revy's vintage cassette player. She had put in a tape, aptly named "Cryin' In Your Beer Shit' some time ago. It had already played through Free Bird and Simple Man; the wilting guitar sounds of an old Alice Cooper ballad were slowly coming to an end.

 _Only women bleed_

 _Only women bleed_

 _Only women bleed_

 _Only women bleed_

Rock looked down to the caramel depths of his first glass of rum as a thoughtful silence settled over the pair. Something from earlier in the day that he'd pushed to the back of his mind came back to his attention.

"Hey, Revy?" He wondered, eyeing her blearily through the beginnings of the transition from a buzzed state into a drunk state.

"What's up, partner?" A stupidly inebriated grin stretched across her face.

 _Black eyes all of the time_ _  
_ _"Don't spend a dime"_ _  
_ _"Clean up this grime"_ _  
_ _And you there down on your knees begging me please_ _  
_ _Come watch me bleed_

He thought back to her fight with Eda, and her outburst at Rowan's, the ongoing pattern of it all and fixed her with an innocent gaze, thinking nothing of the implication. "Why do you get jealous?"

Revy stammered and blinked and blushed, taken aback by his drunken forwardness. "I-I-I uh don't know what you're talking about." She was suddenly _very_ aware of a massive elephant in the room in the form of her repressed feelings, and the atmosphere had just become incredibly awkward. She was grateful he didn't seem to notice and took a large swig of rum to hide the blush on her face, sighing in content as it burned a trail on the way down.

"Of course, you do." Rock persisted, oblivious.

The last notes of Alice Cooper faded out and gave way to another American classic rock slow ballad as Revy deflected, offering a half-truth in response to Rock's prodding. She hurriedly downed her drink and poured another, figuring if they were going to explore all the shit she hated talking about, she needed to be more drunk a lot quicker.

"I dunno," she shrugged. "I guess I've just gotten used to protectin' ya."

 _Day after day I'm more confused_

 _But I look for the light through the pourin' rain_

 _You that's a game that I hate to lose_

 _But I'm feelin' the strain_

 _Ain't it a shame? Oh!_

Rock mulled it over. It was like she'd effectively told him if she couldn't have him, then he was off limits to anyone else. He wondered if she intended such an implication. Truth be told he would kill to have her reciprocate, but he'd never been lucky in that area of his life. Even as he thought about it, he laughed internally at the idea. A small part of him felt as if he'd only be dragging her down, a weight around her neck, if he burdened her with his feelings toward her.

"So, that's it then? You're just trying to protect me from this city?" She stared at him, wide-eyed at how he so astutely got to the heart of the matter. She mused about a conversation they'd had in this very room three months before. She was the gun and he was the bullet. That seemed even more like a perfect summary of their relationship. She was violence, instinct, danger. He was sharp, precise, and the perfect foil to her brash personality. And just the way her cutlasses fired the bullets housed inside their chambers, she had woken Rock to his new life. One that could very well destroy everything that endeared Rock to her. It was a terrifying prospect to realize.

 _Give me the beat boys and free my soul_

 _I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away…_

 _Oh!_

 _Give me the beat boys and free my soul_

 _I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away…_

"Dumbass." She scoffed, fondly. She was putting up another front and Rock saw straight through it. "Of course, I am. I person like you won't last long without help."

"Or without killing." Rock added, the mood in the room suddenly souring as the incident from yesterday came back to both of them. Revy idly toyed with her glass of rum, thinking. She hummed her agreement, which only brought more despair from Rock.

"Relief." She spoke suddenly, bringing him to cast a confused gaze on her. Asking for an explanation with silence.

"Earlier you asked what I felt the first time I killed." Her eyes were slowly drifting away, fixing on some far off point on the wall behind his shoulder. She was beginning to dissociate herself from what was sure to be an arduous journey into her psyche.

"And you felt relief? Why?" Rock wasn't entirely sure this was a road he wanted to go down and he didn't relish the idea of causing her undue pain, but she was offering him the chance to hear things he'd always wanted to know. Things no one else had heard about. It was a chance that might never come again if he passed it by now.

"Because for ten years, dear ol' dad made my life a fuckin' living hell." She took the time to take a nervous drag from a fresh cigarette, leaving rock with just that moment to imagine the horrors she went through before she filled in the picture. "I was his favorite punching bag—and his favorite fuck doll."

Rock felt his eyes widen involuntarily at the horror of the statement, only to clamp shut tight against the aftershock of outrage, but it was just the beginning.

"Almost every night he'd beat the shit outta me. Got real creative too. Once I couldn't stop pissing blood for three weeks." She was eerily unmoved, speaking as though none of this affected her, though both of them knew that carefully constructed wall she guarded her past with would go straight back up tomorrow.

"And then he started raping me right around that same time. I'm pretty sure I had a miscarriage after one of the beatings—the bastard never did use protection."

"Revy…" He was uneasy, torn between wanting it to stop because he couldn't bare to hear anymore, and wanting her to stop hurting herself for his sake. Regardless of his meek protest, she continued her grim story.

"So yeah, you bet your ass I felt fuckin' relieved about blowin' that fucker's brains out. Would do it again too. But then real life bit me in the ass when I realized my pathetic excuse of a dad was only the low man on the totem pole and bigger, meaner monsters came for me."

She mercifully wrapped up her story there as the music switched again, both having forgotten entirely about the tape playing away in the cassette player.

"So yeah, Rock, I used to feel bad about killing. I know what you felt earlier in the market, but everything in my life forced me to become a killer just to fuckin' survive another day."

Rock looked at her, still reeling at the story she just told and the cocktail of emotions he felt in his gut for her plight. And then he felt bile rise in his throat again at the renewed sickness caused by his first kill. It was all too much to take and he slammed down what was in his glass before pouring another and chugging that glass too.

"Revy…tell me I'm not gonna become a killer." He pleaded with her. He didn't think anything less of her for it anymore, understanding even before this story that it was how she'd survived, but he felt as if he'd lose himself if he turned into the same thing.

"I wish I could, Rock." She spoke sympathetically, already sensing the beginnings of a transition on the horizon.

"What?!"

"You gotta realize something: Killing is a disease. Once you get that first taste of blood, its all over, partner. Doesn't matter why you did it." At seeing his paling face she added, "Its something you're not cut out to handle. That's why I've tried to keep you from it. So I have just one thing to ask."

She watched him take another liberal swig of rum and look into her eyes, despite his frazzled state they conveyed the promise of anything she desired. She adored him for that selflessness.

"Just…don't kill unless you have no other option." She requested, sounding embarrassingly pleading.

He could live with that. He could live with the people he'd killed knowing that it was to keep his crew alive. And even if killing always made him feel sick, no matter how many times he did it, he could live with it if it was to protect those he cared about. He could become a killer, as long as he didn't lose sight of that which tied him to his place in the twilight.

But he still wasn't quite ready to take up shooting just yet.

A calmness passed over the room and Rock felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Revy too. Traumatic as it still was to think about, let alone talk about, she could move forward, secure now in the knowledge that she didn't have to bear the burden alone if she chose not to. They had forged another layer to their bond tonight, born of understanding and compassion. And neither was going to forget it any time soon, no matter how many drinks they might have tonight.

"Rock," Revy tossed her empty carton of cigarettes over her shoulder, missing her waste basket by a good margin. "Gimme a smoke. That's enough of this depressing shit for one night."

He smiled, obliging her. His tone as he spoke coming out leagues more positive. For that, at least, Revy was grateful. "You know, I think I can live with what happened. With you to guide me back to my place in the twilight, I mean." Her face softened at his admission, touched that he thought of her that way. " I've never been much of an addict, after all." He cracked.

Revy's face fell flat. "….I hate to break it to ya, bud, but you smoke a pack a day and you're a fuckin' alcoholic."

"Yes, but so is everyone else in this city. I mean, you kinda have to be in our line of work, right?"

Revy chuckled lightly at his reasoning and offered a playful punch to his arm, slurring lightly. "Whatever you say, partner."

 _Hush now don't you cry…_

 _Wipe away the teardrop from your eye…_

 _You're lying safe in bed…_

 _It was all a bad dream, spinning in your head_

 _Your mind tricked you to feel the pain_

 _Of someone close to you leaving the game of life_

 _So here it is, another chance_

 _Wide awake you face the day_

 _Your dream is over_

 _Or has it just begun?_

Neither Rock nor Revy knew exactly what time it was. They'd lost track of the boozy remnants of their drinking some time ago, and of the hour on the clock even longer ago. By this stage they both laid sprawled comfortably, tangled up in a mass of drunken limbs on Revy's mattress. Both had become lethargic and dazed, content to lie in wait for the darkness of sleep to take them away from reality, still slurring out casual conversation every so often.

"Hey Revy?" Rock hiccupped out of the blue as he attempted to give voice to a question that popped into his muddled brain equally as sudden. "What kind of—of gun would you be…if you could…be any gun?"

Revy cackled as if he'd made the most hilarious joke in the world. "Isn't it obviscious? That guy there." She pointed to the wall next to the door, confusing Rock until he realized one of her cutlasses was hanging by the crossdraw holster from yet another gun; a modified AR-15 Smith & Wesson issue.

"Oh…" Rock gasped, pondering the earth shattering revelation.

"And guess what?" She poked him in the chest. "You'd be a 9mm silver bullet."

"Cuz it goes with the…with the…what's that called again? With the gun?" Referring to the 9mm capacity of Revy's twin cutlasses.

Revy nodded in the affirmative, slowly shifting them so that she could climb on top of him. She looked down into the depth of his stupor hazed eyes with a similar expression. "And because it suits you." Though she failed to elaborate.

Rock's body stiffened suddenly in surprise as he felt her fingertips graze against a _very_ intimate part of him. The unexpected touch brought forth a shiver of pleasure, and his alcohol hazed mind brought him to reflexively grasp at the full hips that were starting a gentle, yet seductive rhythm in his lap.

Good God! Was she…purring?

Whether she was purring like a tiger or growling like demon, he couldn't be sure, and he struggled to maintain a clear head; he was like a lost sailor adrift in a choppy sea of inebriation and lust.

Revy leaned down close to him, pushing her ample chest up the length of his torso on the journey to meet his ear. There, she took his ear in her mouth before whispering; low, and soft, and sultry, with a twang of drunk slurring.

"You wanna know somethin', Rocky baby? This is why I get jealous." Feeling bold, she gripped him possessively over his pants and Rock let out a gaspy moan. Good god, he wanted her, wanted to feel more of her. He wanted to roll her over and tame this wild animal hovering above him inside and out. But something in him underneath all the jumble inside his head held him back. It spoke softly that he would regret this later; said this wasn't right.

Apparently, his partner wasn't on quite the same page. Just as he was about to give voice the idea that they shouldn't be doing this, she pounced, pinning his body firmly to the bed and fixing his arms in place above his head as her mouth met his in a violent clash. Neither was sober enough for finesse and the kiss was all the things it shouldn't have been, a sloppy mess of too much teeth and tongue coupled with bad timing, but it was also strangely appropriate.

They chased each other on this path, managing to fall into the same rhythm by some miracle. Both of them moaned into each other, lapping each other up as they went. Rock's hands had a mind of their own at this point. They explored Revy's hardened body eagerly; every scar was like a hidden treasure.

Revy's hands wove through his hair, grazing into his scalp before venturing back down his body, considerably leaner in his sailor lifestyle than it had been in Japan. Strange, he seemed to have changed physically right before her eyes as well. He wasn't muscular, exactly, but he was defined, and the feel of those wicked curves excited her even more, drawing out a devilish grin and spurring her on.

They remained locked up in each other for a while more, Rock still ambivalent but lacking enough sobriety to act on it, and then Revy's hands trailed lower, back down toward his pants. This time, Rock felt her invade his underwear entirely, suddenly wrapping a surprisingly soft hand around him.

His eyes shattered open and reality came down crashing on him. He couldn't let her do this.

Revy looked up at him with a horny, peeved expression as he steered her hand away from him. He silently objected, wearing his resolve in his stubborn, unyielding gaze.

"Oh, come on, cowboy. Just a little? It'll be worth it." She drunkenly seduced, trying for him again and Rock held her firm, speaking to her silently, willing her to understand. _Not like this._

And then somewhere inside of her, something broke. The wild-eyed, lustful gaze she'd had gave way to something deep and sincere. A side of Revy that Rock had yet to see. It was the innocent, unvarnished little girl she was before life fucked her over, sideways, and under, slightly warbled by her drunken state.

She pulled away from Rock and stopped her advances. If she were sober, this was the part where she might be embarrassed with herself, maybe even threaten to shoot him.

Instead, she looked at him with that innocent expression and a moment of deeper appreciation for each other passed between them.

"Thank you, Rock."

He could contemplate the exact meaning behind that later, for he found that his world was slowly growing darker, and soon, he was out like a light amid the pre-dawn twilight filtering through the window, Revy's cassette player still providing a soundtrack for their dreams, as a new tape had been put in at some point.

 _Black hole sun_

 _Won't you come…_

 _And wash away the rain?_

 _Black hole sun_

 _Won't you come.._

 _Won't you come…_

It was Saturday evening at _La Rouge_ , the finest restaurant in Roanapur. While it was one of the few places in the city where refinement could be found, it wasn't without the deceptive quality and the scamming nature that was a motif throughout the city of sin.

Notably, the only thing French to be found in the place was its name, the filet mignon was actually fancy looking rump roast, and the borscht was made from Chinese ingredients (though, the Russians were none the wiser).

Outwardly, the place resembled any other low class hovel in the city, not much different from the business fronts that lined Racciada Street. Inside, it was a world apart. The carpeting was a deep red, and the drapes were all a matching red velvet. The walls were a deep mahogany, with sparse white and gold flooring on the outskirts of an expansive dining room. Overhead, there was a crystal chandelier amid several smaller golden brass ceiling lamps for lighting. It created an intimate and dimly lit, yet sparkling atmosphere.

Each table was forged in the same mahogany as the walls, carefully crafted with intricate woodwork on the legs and lacquered on top, though this wasn't seen from under the perfect white table cloths.

Fittingly, the wait staff all dressed to the nines as they flitted about, attending to the needs of Roanapur's few wealthy. They wore white dress shirts beneath jet black waist coats and matching pants and ties.

The place truly was Roanapur's best kept secret, and on this night, two of the city's most powerful were taking full advantage of that to recede from the eyes of their criminal compatriots.

Chang and Balalaika sat at a table in a secluded corner of the room, chatting amicably over two glasses of wine, and their entrees. Chang had lemon chicken in front of him, while the resident head of Hotel Moscow was having what appeared to be a rather extravagantly prepared "Russian" dish. The pair had been seated for quite some time, leisurely laughing and talking about personal matters in a way that made clear that there was more to their rivalry than met the eye. But, as some say "nosey types aren't too popular" and so the wait staff who did notice minded their own business.

About an hour after being seated, Balalaika decided it was time to get to the matter at hand. She knew all too well that Chang didn't ask her out to dinner without an ulterior motive.

"Alright, Chang." She spoke, clipping the end of a hand-rolled Cuban cigar before lighting it. "I think we've had enough merry-making, don't you? Why don't we get down to why we're really here?"

Chang smirked from behind his wine glass and trade mark sunglasses, a glint in his eyes and a burning cigarette between the fingers around his glass. He was completely at ease. There was no hurry.

"I would've thought we could mix a _little_ pleasure with our business. We're both multitaskers, aren't we?" He retorted ever so suggestively. His casual smirk turned devious as he felt her foot hooking around his calf under the table, taking his suggestion to heart, though her businesslike expression didn't falter.

"Maybe if you behave yourself… _baby._ " There was that loathsome nickname that both irritated the triad leader and turned him on; made him putty in her cold, calculating hands. Perhaps that's why he hated it.

"You're gonna play it that way, are you?" Underneath the table, his free hand found her knee and he caressed the charred skin lightly; playfully. "In that case, I have a mutually beneficial business proposition for you."

Balalaika's foot continued to stroke a sensual pattern on his leg, a promise of the kinds of things she might do to other parts of him later.

"Oh really?" Her voice conveyed interest in both his idea and his hand's precarious position along her thigh now. "And what does the Triad have to offer that might interest me?" She challenged shrewdly, blowing a ring of smoke in his direction.

The phrase "playing hard to get" came to Chang's mind. But then, their relationship was full of pushes and pulls in all of its facets. He removed his hand entirely from her leg, then, and she let out a whisper of a disappointed grunt in response, unhooking her own foot from his calf.

Now that was probably enough pleasure for the time being.

Chang leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, peering at her through focused eyes from behind his aviators. A plume of smoke created by their mingling tobacco products surrounded them both, casting them into their own little isolated bubble.

"It's trivial, really. It just occurred to me, especially after all that business with the blood hound, that the balance of power in this city has walked a tight rope for far too long. If we don't do something to strengthen our relations soon, eventually the pot'll boil over to a point none of us can get back from. So, I'm reaching out to you, first."

She took a moment, taking another drag of her cigar and holding in the burning, intoxicating sweetness as she mulled it over.

"That all sounds well and good, Chang, but perhaps I didn't make myself clear." Her voice was sharp, yet cordial, every word articulating the fact that he needed to give her a reason to listen. "What does the Triad have to offer Hotel Moscow?"

Chang shrugged, unfazed. "For starters? How 'bout the opportunity to increase your business operations in South East Asia ten-fold? I can imagine those you answer to back in the motherland will think pretty highly of you."

He was sounding an awful lot like a smooth-talking luxury car salesman, and Balalaika bit hard on the bait, her interest piqued.

"And just how do you propose we do that? You just conveniently happen to have all these extra resources hiding in your burberry, do you?"

Chang's brow twitched at her skeptical jab. "In a manner of speaking: yes. And it's a trench coat." He snuffed out his cigarette before immediately reaching into his pocket to pull out another one. In a gesture of good faith, he gave her something up front.

"There's a pretty lucrative independent human trafficking operation run out of the golden triangle. It's run by some two-bit pirates. It'd be easy work for you to step in and take it over."

"And what about the Manisarrera Cartel?" She was secretly thrilled to have a chance to stick it to Abrego and his bunch, but…"Weren't you just saying something about cooperation? As I recall, human trafficking is one of their main businesses."

Chang simply nodded. "Yes, and so is the import and export of drugs. Doesn't that just chap your ass?"

She glared as he continued. "That's precisely my point, we've all been working against each other and trying to keep the balance among factions in this city. The balance will continue to be fragile as long as we're all vying for the biggest piece of the pie."

Balalaika's skeptical glare hardened. "Then explain to me why you're offering me a chance to expand my business, and by extension, my power?"

He simply grinned at her, resting his arms on the back of his chair with a knowing expression on his face. He knew she cared too much about power to say no to his little proposal. He had reeled her in, all he needed to do was drive the final nail in.

"That's a discussion for a different time, I'm afraid. Think about it, if you'd like. But for now…why don't you take my tip?" He lowered his sunglasses to leer directly at her, implying more than he was saying.

Balalaika's own pirate smile greeted him before she stood from the table.

"I have just one last question."

"And what might that be?" Chang stood with her, offering his elbow to her in a gentlemanly display.

"What do you get out of helping me?"

He let out one of his amused guffaws at the question.

"That's another question for another time, but let's just say, you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours."


	5. Chapter 5

Ch. 5: Conflict of Interest

It was well into the afternoon hour by the time Rock woke. The sun blared its rays shamelessly through the blinds of Revy's bedroom to beat down on his beleaguered face. He fought his body's waking process as long as he could, squeezing his eyes shut in pursuit of a few more blissful moments of respite from the day ahead. The sound of Sawyer the Cleaner's chainsaw buzzing away underneath the window dashed any hope he had of drifting off back to sleep.

His stiff body whined in protest as he moved to sit up. It was also in that moment that he remembered he wasn't alone as he was made aware of the presence sharing the bed with him. His eyes drifted lower down his body. There was a slender arm, thrown haphazardly around his middle, painted in tell tale black tribal tattoos. His eyes drifted a bit further to his right to take stock of her. Revy was still dead to the world; she snored peacefully as the arm around him clung possessively like a child to a favorite teddy bear. It wasn't the first time they'd passed out together drunk like this, but it struck him how endearing the image of Revy in sleep truly was. It was like she was truly without a care in the world; all worldly troubles washed away in the tide and carried off to some unknown place as she dreamt.

An image came unbidden into his mind. It was a brief flash, so foggy he couldn't be sure it was real, and yet so vivid he wouldn't forget it: the image of Revy looking into his eyes, completely bare of her defense mechanisms, reduced only to the innocence that still existed underneath. He smiled wistfully at the image, sparing his sleeping partner one last look before freeing himself of her grip to face the day ahead. She stirred lightly in protest; humming sleepy, discontented moans as she shuffled around briefly before latching onto the sheets and taking them over her shoulder as she rolled to face the window.

With that, Rock crept out of the room in to set about the task of cleaning himself up for the day.

He hadn't been awake long, but the coolness of the water in his shower was already a welcome reprieve from the heat. Stepping into the icy stream felt like a sort of rebirth, washing away the grime and sweat of the day before, and the alcohol that still coursed through his veins. Something it couldn't cleanse, however, were the lingering feelings warring with each other in his gut over his first kill…kills, if he were to split hairs. He fretted over something Revy said the day before, bracing his arm pensively against the wall and letting the water beat down on his naked back as he stared down at the floor.

If killing was a disease, could he really resist it? Could he really keep his place in the twilight and only kill those who left him no choice? Or was he simply an idealistic fool who continued to resist the inevitable siren call of the devil's playground he called home?

He shut the water off and let out the smallest irritated groan at the loss of the refreshing coolness coupled with the depressing thoughts beginning to swirl in his overactive mind. There was a fresh white linen towel in his cabinet, which he draped around his waist before turning his attention to the mirror.

Rock pondered his reflection for a moment. It looked as it always did, at least to the casual observer. That same jet black hair, slicked back into a professional salaryman's hairstyle (which at the moment was decidedly more bed raggled). There was the baby-faced complexion, only slightly more bronzed by his time as a pirate, along with the beginnings of his five o'clock shadow, which would be gone in short order to preserve his white collar appearance. Rock often wondered why he bothered with it at all, but in the end, decided that his professional appearance was just one more thing that made him valuable to Dutch and the Lagoon crew. Taking a closer look at himself as he applied the fluffy white Barbasol to his face, it also occurred to him that it hid the slow change happening inside. His eyes were just a little more dull; just a little more jaded and world weary than they had been when he arrived in Roanapur. And yet something there also seemed to sparkle with more life than he'd possessed when he was being kicked around by his bosses in Japan.

He could almost swear if he looked long enough, the flip side of his personality actually smiled back at him like a real-life Jekyll and Hyde where he was the innocent, morally righteous man staring into the reflection of his own chaos demon, watching it smirk back at him with amusement at the destruction they could wreak together. It was a thought that made Rock, the trepedatious and perpetually twilight dwelling business man's stomach churn.

 _THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!_

"Rock? You in there?"

 _Saved by the boss,_ Rock thought at the sound of Dutch's smooth baritone voice penetrating the quiet of his living space.

"Yeah! Give me a minute!" Rock called back politely, immediately setting out in search of a fresh shirt, tie, and slacks combo. Almost as soon as he'd finished assembling the outfit and tightening his tie, he began to feel strangely suffocated and promptly pulled the tie right back off his neck. "Fuck it", he figured. Today wouldn't be a proper working day so he might as well give into the steadily growing urge he'd been feeling to stray from his business wardrobe. The problem was, he lacked any other kind of clothing choice. Rock's eyes fell on the cursed Hawaiian shirt that he'd once dismissed as hideous (though secretly kind of enjoyed) which had found a home on his wall. He figured it would suffice until he could pick up some casual clothing at the market later on.

Just as Dutch was about to rap on the door a second time, Rock pulled it open and the large veteran's eyes widened considerably from behind his glasses at the odd sight. His cigarette began to drift from his slackened jaw before being caught briefly in a knowing grin.

 _So the transformation begins._

"….You wanted to speak to me, Dutch?" Rock prodded, cordial as ever, the businessman in him always ready to appeal to the employer in Dutch despite the friendly, at times even familial, nature of their relationship after all this time.

"Yeah," Dutch motioned for Rock to follow as he made to turn back down the hall. He offered Rock a smoke, which the businessman gratefully accepted. "Listen, I know I said today was gonna be a free day, but would you mind tying up a few last minute loose ends and then hoppin' over to the dock to give Benny a hand with some electronics in the boat shed?"

"No problem." Rock answered, eyeing his boss curiously out of the corner of his eye as they neared the stair well. Dutch reached into his flak vest and pulled out a piece of paper with scribbled business details on it for a handful of customers. "Thanks. That'll be less shit we gotta deal with when we get back in port in a few days." He took a moment to relight the forgotten cigarette between his lips as they continued their descent to street level.

"You seem busy." Rock noted. "What is it you're going out to do?" He couldn't think of anything besides what he and Benny were already tasked with that needed to be done before tomorrow.

Dutch's face contorted into a chagrined expression.

"It just occurred to me, with Eda on board I need to restock the Lagoon's liquor if I wanna keep her away from my Ardbeg."

An amused silence fell over them as they made their way out onto the street, both turning to follow the same stretch of sidewalk. It soon became heavy with the contemplation of both men and they found themselves in something of a stand-off, a challenge to see who would speak what was on their mind first.

"Y'know Rock," Dutch caved." Don't take this the wrong way, but you look like shit."

If his head had whipped around any faster at the unexpected nature of that comment, Rock was positive it would've fallen right off his shoulders. Self-consciously, Rock craned his head toward his armpits to see if he managed to get rid of all the boozy, filthy, criminal muck that living in this place tended to coat people in. Dutch just gave a broad Cheshire smile in response to his unspoken question.

"I've been there before." Dutch spoke, his voice dropped down to a commiserating tone. "You can't wash away guilt." He was every bit the sage, level headed employer, offering his sound advice from behind clouds of cigarette smoke that poured out as he spoke.

Dutch had a talent for this, Rock had to admit, in another place and time, he could've been a counselor or a mediator of some sort. It wasn't uncommon for even the criminal elite to look to Dutch as a neutral third party in business conflicts, and it wasn't hard to see why. He was a balancing force with a skill for smooth talk rivaled only by his ex-salaryman employee.

"I'll spare you the pep-talk because I'm sure you've heard enough and I'm not gonna patronize you, but you had a rough day. It happens. Frankly, I'm surprised you made it this long without taking up arms."

He paused thoughtfully as they came to the point where they'd have to go their separate ways, onto different avenues of everyday mundanity, the last for a brief while, before setting sail the next day.

"Just…don't let it eat at you, kid." He offered a firm, supportive pat on Rock's shoulder. He was already half turned to head in the opposite direction as he finished his thought, punctuating the point by stomping out the last of his cigarette.

"You can't hope to survive here if you hold on to things like this. That guilt will chew you up and spit you out."

Rock considered the advice carefully as he made his own way through the city toward his destinations. He was once again too enthralled by his own mind to pay any heed to the tramps and street urchins who ran amok in abundance during the daylight hours, but they left him be, fearing retribution from his ever-present dual wielding guardian angel should she happen to see the slightest infraction against this man roaming the streets in his khaki pants and funny Hawaiian shirt. Little did they know, Rock made the trip alone.

Rock trudged around the city, battling with both his mind and the unforgiving heat of summer. And as he did, the sun began to drift from the sky, finally coming to rest beneath the horizon some time after work on Benny's hardware had been completed. With the darkness, the usual daytime rabble of petty criminals, street urchins, beggars, and swindlers receded away from the night and only the predators who hunted in darkness remained. God help the unfortunate sheep who crossed paths with some of the nastier sharks in the fucked up ocean of Roanapur's seedy night time underbelly.

One of the more notorious among the city's toughest was making her way down the street toward the Yellow Flag. She'd had a long couple of days and was itching for a drink, or some excitement, or God willing, both. Her blonde her swayed free and loose down her back; down past the pink crop top that was three sizes too small, and coming to rest at the lime green mini skirt she wore. That cascade of hair moved with each step she took on sinfully long legs, tapering down toward feet clad in surprisingly modest white sandals. The whole look was completed by her usual pink sunglasses coupled with the Glock hanging just below her left arm. Her whole look radiated with the desire to find trouble, and this was just the place to start.

The flag was a bit less boisterous than the usual Sunday night affair; nothing out of the ordinary, mostly just a few less drunken Colombians to butt heads, or sing along to the juke box, or whatever else the rabble of regulars got up to. She was above the shenanigans unless someone was stupid enough to pull a gun on her.

Eda scanned over the crowd as if deciding which group she wanted to involve herself with, then her eyes landed on the bar, and the distinct figure of Lagoon crew's best gun. Perfect.

"Hey, Two-hands!" She called above the din of clashing sounds, bringing Revy to still her drink in its approach to her mouth. Revy groaned audibly as the town's resident fake nun sauntered up beside her with a gait that would rival Marilyn Monroe.

"Oh, don't be like that. I didn't come to cause any trouble." She lied through a devilish, antagonizing grin while silently gesturing to Bao to pour her usual, Crown Royal on the rocks.

"You think I was born yesterday?" Retorted Revy, "You _always_ mean to stir the fuckin' pot."

Eda shrugged simply. It was a valid point, after all. Very little went on in Roanapur that Eda didn't have a hand in at one time or another, of course that was for a very different reason than it appeared to the gunslinger sitting on her right.

"Fair enough." Eda cooed innocently, taking a drink of the whiskey Bao had just placed in front of her. "But enough about that, where's Romeo? I would've thought he'd be around somewhere if you're here."

Revy bristled slightly at Eda's genuine curiosity, feeling defensive at the prospect of the other woman's sexual interest in Rock.

"He's not here." Revy answered flatly. "I know you're disappointed but there's always the next gang bang."

"Hmm?"

Eda ignored the attempt to goad her into one of their usual verbal sparring matches. Revy was out of form tonight. There was something eating at her, and clearly, it had to do with a certain Japanese man. She changed her approach to questioning, teasing.

"Aw what's the matter? Did you two have a fight?"

Revy down the rest of her rum in response, brief flashes of the night before playing in her mind. She didn't remember much, and Rock probably even less, but it was enough. They'd shared something profoundly important in the sanctuary of her apartment, burning away at the midnight candle, but it also stirred memories and feelings in her she'd buried so long that she didn't even know how to handle them anymore.

"No." She shook her head. "It's just…Shit! Can't two people spend a day apart without the whole fuckin' town asking questions?"

Bao, who had been silently wiping down glasses on the other side of the bar from the pair, chimed in at this point.

"Actually, Revy, I was wondering the same thing. You two are like conjoined twins most days. What gives?"

Eda smiled widely in triumph and clapped a hand on Revy's back.

"See? Bao gets it! Now, tell us, is he seeing other women?" Her voice dropped to a low, conspiratorial tone at the last part, and she eased off when Revy's hackles began to raise, but surprisingly, Revy didn't snap. She found that she was too preoccupied with the bullshit happening in her own head to bother with her usual outbursts. It seemed Rock's distress had caused her to become despondent for him, on top of trying to sort through what she could remember of certain…highlights of their night.

"It's no big deal." Revy toiled with her empty glass, both wanting desperately to have more alcohol to carry her away from the reality of this moment, and having no real desire to be drunk. It was quite the contradiction.

"The poor sap's just working through some stuff. I figured he could use time to himself." She tried at the light tone she usually took discussing casual matters with people like Bao or Praiyachat or even Rowan, but she just couldn't get the weight of her own clashing feelings out. She shook her head, figuring maybe that would dislodge the muck, and then stood from her barstool and dropped some money on the counter.

"Revy, what-?" Eda started, as Revy turned her back to the bar.

She sighed in a frustrated manner, taking a moment to reach into her pocket for a smoke.

"The air in here's lousy tonight. I think I'll go take a walk for a while."

Eda shrugged, turning her attention to the maple depths of her glass. She knew better than to prod to much at the other woman and wasn't quite willing to test the boundaries of this weird, broody, contemplative person masquerading as Two-Hands. So, she resigned herself to simply drinking alone for the moment. Maybe something interesting might find _her_ later.

"Alright, suit yourself. Watch your back."

Revy waved her concern off with bored disinterest and sauntered away into the night. Bao went back to his busy work while Eda nursed her glass of crown, left to wonder just what the hell was up with those two.

"So, Bao…" Eda turned her attention to the Vietnamese bartender. "How's business been? If I recall correctly, it's been a while since this place was torn up the last time that maid past through, hasn't it? She was chasing after Americans if I'm not mistaken."

Bao abruptly slammed the mason jar he'd been wiping down on the bar with a harsh clatter and bore into her with such deadly serious fury that she recoiled on her stool.

"Shut the fuck up!" He snapped, bringing a hand to cover her mouth as she mumbled in irate protest at the suddenness of the action. "Don't ever mention that woman in this bar, you hear? It's a bad fuckin' omen! No! A curse!"

"Well, sor-ry." Eda drawled, straightening her sunglasses. "No need to go getting your boxers in a twist. I was just making conversation."

The bartender huffed irritably in response, going back to cleaning his glassware once again. He maid a point to flash a glare in the direction of some new comers settling in near the back corner of the room who looked like trouble, taking a visual sweep of the room as a whole to make sure no shit was about to go down. Aside from the suspicious group, there were just a few of the regulars, consisting of a handful of Colombians, a few errant bounty hunters, and one of the whores from upstairs lounging over by the juke box, choosing a new song every once in a while. It was a tame crowd, but still…

After a few minutes, Bao took a moment from his chores to refill Eda's glass, gossiping as he did.

"Did you hear about Torchy?"

"Last I heard that crazy tweaker dropped off the face of the planet." She pulled out a stick of gum and popped it into her mouth. "At least, that was the rumor."

"He came back. A few days ago, just waltzed right in here. It's the first time I've ever seen him in my bar, come to think of it."

"Oh? And what's so unusual about that?"

Bao leaned in, speaking in a hushed whisper. "He was stone cold sober…but you wouldn't know it by the way he was ramblin' on about being abducted by aliens. The whole thing was fuckin' weird."

Eda winced through her teeth at the image, casually downing a sip of whiskey from her glass as she did. "The poor thing fried his brains. Had to happen sooner or later, speaking of which, Richie Leroy got himself a new asshole."

"Sold the wrong piece of information to the wrong person?" Bao asserted, watching a cheshire grin play at the nun's lips. "Pretty much. He lived, but I hear Sawyer kept a piece or two of him as a souvenir." She didn't know whether to snicker at the guy's stupidity or cringe at the image of being hacked with a chainsaw.

CRRRACKKK!

Bao was about to reply when the attention of everyone in the room was drawn to a fight breaking out in the corner, right where that group Bao had spotted earlier had taken their seats. The sounds of broken glass and smashed chairs were almost immediately followed by angry shouting and fighting noises from that group, and cheering from the rest of the bar.

"God damn you, Eda!" Bao bellowed, glaring daggers at the nun as she simply continued to drink her whiskey.

"Oh relax, will you? It's just a little brawl." As casual and unaffected as she sounded about the whole thing, she was secretly keeping damn good track of everything going on behind her back, lest she need to dive for cover.

The combatants were a group of up-and-coming Italians, fighting over a dispute about which of them the Don favored more. It was pointless and juvenile even by Roanapur standards and the whole display really only served to show what idiots the whole lot of them were. Eda felt the beginnings of a headache coming on as her patience dwindled with the rowdy bunch of scum around her egging this shit show on. Her temper had just about fizzled out when silence abruptly fell over the bar again. Eda breathed a sigh of relief and turned to see why the fighting had stopped, but then she heard a familiar voice, belonging to a person she'd only encountered once.

The woman had the group of Italians just about pissing themselves as she dominated them with her annoyed presence. She advanced on them with knives drawn, ready to throw them like darts at a moment's notice.

Strange, Eda thought, she hadn't noticed her here before.

"Listen motherfuckers, you take this stupid shit outside, yes? We not here to listen to pointless little boy arguments. We here to drink."

Eda snorted into her own drink at that. _Goddamn right._

Soon the bar fell back into a more peaceful state of disarray and merry-making and the fight was all but forgotten, though Bao still seemed a bit on edge. Eda was now on her fifth glass and approaching a tipsy level of intoxication, intermittently joking and chatting with Bao and a couple other guys who had joined the bar seating. She had just reached up to take another swig when her glass suddenly shattered into her hand.

"What the fuck-?!" Her eyes immediately landed on the culprit. _Her._

Shenhua had taken notice of Eda and seemed none too pleased to meet her again.

"Bitch. What's your problem?" Eda glared over the top of her glasses, irritated yet strangely intrigued by the woman before her.

"I have business with you, nun." The feeling was mutual. In her entire career, Eda couldn't recall being trapped so easily or taken so close to death until her run in with the Taiwanese assassin. She'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit that a little rematch was exciting. And then there was also the matter of Shenhua's anonymity. She was one of the big fish in Roanapur, in the same tier as Two-Hands, or Dutch, or even Gustavo, and yet with all her connections Eda had never heard of Shenhua before their first meeting.

"Is that so?"

"I owe you for shooting me. How you like me to skin your ass?"

"Take this shit outside!" Bao hollered, though neither woman was paying attention to him at this point. There was an odd atmosphere brewing. It left each and every bar patron to wonder just what the fuck was happening between these two.

"Oh come on, that was eight months ago!" Eda crooned, teasingly tapping at Shenhua's chin. "You gotta let these things go." Way off in the background, the streetwalker hanging out by the juke box had just put on a new song, the sounds of it filling the spaces of this little face off; heightening the tension.

 _Spilled milk tears,  
I did this for you  
Spilling over the idol  
The black and the blue_

"So sorry. Can't do that." Shenhua pulled out a kukri blade, holding it to Eda's neck before she could get her gun out of her holster. She pressed the blade into Eda's skin until she was forced to stand and finally square off with the other woman. Eda was surprised at how delicious the stinging sensation of the blade felt, and even more surprised at the way she found herself wanting more of it. "Have honor to uphold."

Eda openly cackled at that, bending over in her laughter as far as the knife against her neck would allow. When the laughter finally subsided, she fixed Shenhua with an amused, canine bearing grin, stirring something strange inside of the Asian woman.

"So…let me get this straight. You want revenge, because I shot you. On a job we were both hired mercs for. A job where _you_ strangled _me,_ almost beheaded me, _and_ skewered Two-Hands? Is that about right?" Her voice was too sweet, the kind of sweet reminiscent of candy one might drop to lure someone into a trap in a Looney Tunes skit.

 _I'm not here looking for absolution  
Because I found myself an old solution  
I'm not here looking for absolution  
Because I found myself an old solution_

"That right. What about it?" Shenhua wondered where the nun was going with this line of questioning.

Eda took one last swig of the remainder of her drink as the knife was lowered from her neck and gave her answer with a dangerous pirate smile. "Just making sure you and I were on the same page. By your own logic, I'm due for some payback of my own. Now, what do you say we take this somewhere a bit more appropriate, shall we?"

Bao felt relieved at the suggestion, but he couldn't help that looking between the two women a fight might not be the only way this went down. Either way, he was glad they were leaving because both choices would surely mean destruction.

 _This is his body  
This is his love  
Such selfish prayers,  
I can't get enough_

Eda looked rather like the cat that ate the canary, sensing that she'd found the thrill she'd set out into the night to find. That sentiment was reflected in Shenhua's eyes as her own expression twisted into the same mischievous, bedeviled, walking dead skeleton smirk. She signaled her assent by putting her knives away and stepping aside with an arm outstretched in a flourish.

"Lead the way."

 _The sweetest submission  
Drinking it in  
The wine, the women, the bedroom hymns_

"Old cunt! Old cunt!" The rip-off church's parakeet screeched into the late morning air, breaking the ambience of the peaceful Monday morning to greet the visitors pulling up the path. Tires came to a screaming halt in front of the chapel shortly after.

"Hey, Rock, wait here. Alright?" Revy commanded, already throwing the door open before the car had even come to a complete stop. "This shouldn't take long." She made her way up the rest of the dirt path way to the chapel door and was just about to blare out her customary shouting to go along with the fist pounding on the door when it suddenly gave way and her hand nearly struck the face of the person on the other side.

"Eda, watch what yer doin'—" She started, but then did a double take, registering that the person on the other side wasn't Eda…or anyone else affiliated with the church. "Chinglish?" Revy blinked. Once, twice, three times. "The fuck are you doin' here this early." Shenhua was a disheveled mess of her usual self, wearing hear white jacket askew, her lipstick was badly smeared, and she had what could only be described as bed hair. Oh, this was too damn good. Revy found herself overloaded with the effort of trying to process this new information.

"What the matter, slut? You ever do work before noon?"

Yeah, sure. 'Work.'

Revy continued to watch Shenhua walk off down the path, still too stunned for words, but she knew one thing for sure: That was a walk of shame if she ever saw one. She could hardly contain herself, this was just too good. How could she be expected to share a boat with Eda for the next five days and _not_ milk this little tidbit of information for all it was worth? She'd only just seen it and already she was about to burst with the effort of keeping her mouth shut.

In a moment of clarity, Revy remembered why she actually came here and raised her fist against the door once again.

"Yo, Sister Mary saggy tits! Hurry the fuck up! We still have to load the ship before we shove off!"

A moment later there was audible shuffling from behind the door, followed by a grouchy response.

"I'm coming, Two-Hands. Why don't you stick a tampon in. Sounds like you're gonna need it, you bitch." Eda grunted, hauling a bulging duffle bag out the door. From the car, it looked to Rock like one of those enchanted bottomless bags one sees in works of fiction, jammed to capacity and ready to explode. Revy growled, ready to rip Eda's head off for that last comment but then her eyes honed in a tell-tale red smudge on the collar of the nun's habit…in a _very_ familiar color. Ho-ly shit! This just kept getting better.

"Hey Eda," Revy spoke as they walked out to the car. "Since when are you a carpet muncher?"

The nun nearly tripped over her own two feet in shock at the sudden question. She struggled to stammer out an appropriate response. "I um…I-I don't know what you mean." She reached a finger under her collar and tugged uncomfortably, squirming under Revy's delighted scrutiny. It was suddenly way too hot and that was more than just the tropical climate talking.

Revy's Cheshire cat grin stretched wider. "You might wanna say that after you clean that lipstick off your collar."

"For fuck's sake!" Eda fumed, embarrassed, while Revy basked in her sense of superiority. It was about time she got the upper hand after almost two years of teasing Revy incessantly about her relationship with Rock. Without another word, the pair of them slipped into the GTO as the engine roared back to life in a thunderous fury. Rock put his foot to the floor board this time, in the mood to enjoy the speed of the vintage sports car.

Once they had put a good distance between them and the church, Eda leaned forward to rest her elbows on the back rest of the front seat. She was in the mood to shift this balance of power back into a more favorable position.

"Well, hey there, Romeo. Looks like we'll be spending some quality time together." She cooed softly into Rock's ear, her voice carried a come-hither quality. "You know I wouldn't mind sharing a bunk, if you want."

Revy visibly bristled at the display, but then calmed. "I dunno, Eda. You wouldn't wanna risk Chinglish finding out about that, would ya? She can get pretty fuckin' nasty with those knives."

"Pfft, that was a one-time thing." She lied. "Just two ships passing in the night, but Rocky-boy here" she blew into his earlobe, causing him to blush furiously as he struggled to concentrate on his driving. "He has promise."

At this, Revy finally lost her cool. "Lay a finger on him, bitch, and you won't fuckin' have any left. It'll take an honest fuckin' act of God for you to satisfy a woman ever again."

Rock listened to their back and forth bickering, profoundly confused by the whole thing. He felt as if he was missing a key piece of information somewhere in all of the verbal sparring. He did know that this job promised to be a long five days at this rate. With a resigned sigh, Rock lit himself a smoke and rolled his window down, letting the breeze ruffle his hair as he tuned out the bickering sounds from his partner and the fake nun.

* * *

Quick note: I know it's been a while since I last updated. I wanted to take more time on this chapter. Also, this story concept is turning out to be a lot more intricate than I first imagined and I'm going to do my best to approach it in the same sense as the manga and anime in that there is no true filler…every little detail even outside the main plot ultimately matters to the main plot in the end. So, if at times the main plot might stagnate, bear with me and know that what you're reading in the meantime is gonna have a pay-off. That said, we're diving right back into it next time in Take Me to Church!


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